


wild thoughts

by bluelines



Category: Women's Hockey RPF
Genre: F/F, Oral Fixation, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 00:31:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14659461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelines/pseuds/bluelines
Summary: Meghan makes the first move, technically.





	wild thoughts

Meghan makes the first move, technically. She almost always does, which is fine with her; she had expected Gillian to, so every time Gillian waits for her to make the first move she's charmed and surprised all over again. Gillian seems to like it, too, the way their dynamic is the opposite of what people might assume. Whatever it is, it works for them, and Meghan makes the first move with this, just like she usually does. 

They're making out like teenagers, like they used to when they had a limited amount of time between flights or games or whatever else was keeping them apart, desperate and sloppy, only this time on a bed in a house that they rent together. Both of their names on the lease. That gets Meghan hotter than anything Gillian could do to her physically. She's thinking about that, about how exciting it is that this is _happening_ , that they're doing this, the two of them, when she breaks the kiss and squirms against Gillian's hip and whines.

"Needy," Gillian observes, like she isn't, like she won't be asking for it under Meghan's mouth in thirty minutes. Instead of saying so, Meghan tilts her face into the hand that Gillian has brought up to touch her cheek. She kisses the center of Gillian's palm, and Gillian softens. She leaves her hand there when they start to kiss again, and then, the next time that Gillian pulls back for a breath, Meghan turns her hand again and reaches for Gillian's wrist. She slides Gillian's index and middle fingers into her mouth, pressing her tongue flat against Gillian's skin, and Gillian makes a soft, surprised, broken noise that Meghan wants to hear on repeat for the rest of her life. When she lets go of Gillian's wrist and lets Gillian withdraw her fingers, she knows she's in for it, and she's right. 

Gillian pins her in place and kisses her hard, reaching blindly with her free hand to grab at the headboard, to give herself some leverage. Meghan is laughing into the space between Gillian's jaw and neck until Gillian turns that laugh into a moan.

-

Every other time Meghan has made the first move she's expected Gillian to make the next, corresponding move. Early on, dating Gillian, she had the distinct thought that doing this with Gillian was a lot like playing chess. Back then she was still in the habit of thinking of them on opposite sides of the board, Gillian playing in black, her playing in white. She can distinctly remember, after their third "date," kissing Gillian hard on the lips in the parking lot of her place in Toronto and thinking "checkmate" based solely off of the look in Gillian's eyes.

This is an exception. Living together has put her in the habit of thinking of them as a team of their own, on one side of the chess table with life on the other side. Meghan is not expecting Gillian to make the next move. Meghan is not expecting there to _be_ a next move. 

Between playing in Buffalo and coaching in Potsdam, Meghan is so exhausted so much of the time that the sex that they have--when they do have it, which isn't as often as Meghan would like--tends to be quiet and sleepy and tender. Meghan loves that and she knows that Gillian does, too, but she feels like she's been slacking, like Gillian has needs she's been neglecting. She can taste it in the way that Gillian kisses her lately, like she's antsy, like there's something she wants. Meghan has a feeling she knows what it is. She knows what that feels like, when she wants Gillian to hold her hands down and make her ask for it. 

She finally has a break, enough time that she's got enough energy to give Gillian the kind of attention she wants. The look on Gillian's face when Meghan steps out of the bed, naked, digging through the top drawer of the dresser, tells her everything she needs to know.

"You can always just ask," Meghan says.

"It's more fun to wait for you to guess," Gillian says, as if the real reason isn't that she's still too shy to tell Meghan to put on the strap-on and make her sore for the next three days. Gillian pretends that she's not shy like that (or in any other way), but Meghan knows better now. She's thinking about that when she steps into the harness and adjusts it. The lube is on the bedside table, and she's thinking about that when she steps toward the bed. She's mid-reach for it when Gillian rolls over onto her stomach, moving to the edge of the bed. Meghan hesitates, thinking Gillian might be about to say something, but instead Gillian reaches for her hips, drawing her closer until she's standing with her knees against the edge of the bed.

Gillian takes the dildo effortlessly into her mouth and Meghan almost passes out on the spot. She always thought that was an exaggeration, but truly, all of the blood rushes from her head so fast that her knees sway. Gillian holds her a little bit more firmly by the hips, and Meghan hears herself curse as if it's from a thousand miles away. She has no idea what to do with her hands. Eventually Gillian pulls away far enough to look up.

"What," she says, "you thought I was a rookie?"

"Gillian," Meghan says, because she's not sure that she's capable of saying anything else.

"Come here," Gillian says, and Meghan does, kneeling on the bed while Gillian rolls onto her back and reaches for the lube that Meghan had honestly forgotten about.

So, well--checkmate.


End file.
